As we commemorate the 78th anniversary of the bombings of Hiroshima and Nagasaki, America is gripped in a confusing and (as some have argued) insensitive cultural moment.
The release of very different movies, “Barbie” and “Oppenheimer,” on the same day has spawned the “Barbenheimer” craze where the two come together in a strange yet symbiotic fashion. Box office records have been broken across America and it has become a trend among moviegoers to express an ironic sense of humor by seeing both films on the same day.
In addition, countless internet jokes and memes — some showing “Barbie” and “Oppenheimer” juxtaposed against the backdrop of atomic explosions — have gone viral. However, the resulting satire has led to deep offense and anger among many Japanese. Things culminated earlier this week when Warner Bros. (the makers of “Barbie”) issued an apology after their official U.S. social media account reacted positively to a Barbenheimer meme.
These memes aren’t harmless fun, because atomic bombs are never harmless. The two bombs dropped by the American armed forces on Hiroshima and Nagasaki created immense and intense human suffering. The Barbenheimer trend thus glosses over the tragedy at the core of “Oppenheimer” and points to the fact that few Americans have ever fully grappled with the enormous devastation of the atomic bombings. In large part, that’s because few Americans have ever seen that reality.
In 2018, I was approached by Hankaku Shashin Undo, the Anti-Nuclear Photographer’s Association (ANPM), who have worked since 1982 to preserve the legacy of Japanese photographers who documented the bombings and their immediate aftermath firsthand in Hiroshima and Nagasaki.
As the executive director of the Briscoe Center for American History at the University of Texas at Austin, a research center dedicated to fostering scholarly and public understanding of U.S. history, I was interested in ANPM’s invitation to collaborate. At the heart of ANPM’s activism is a desire to remove the danger of nuclear war from the world — a motive we can all support, regardless of how we feel about the American decision to drop the bombs. In working together, we hoped to raise visual awareness of “what actually happened” in Hiroshima and Nagasaki so that a new generation of Americans might better understand the realities of nuclear war.
ANPM agreed to place a large digital archive of photographs at the Briscoe Center and I agreed to publish a book and create an exhibition of selected images. Along with two members of my staff, I visited Hiroshima and Nagasaki in 2018, meeting with museum staff, journalists and hibakusha.
A young boy looks at a photograph showing the city of Hiroshima after the 1945 atomic bombing in a display at the Hiroshima Peace Memorial Museum. | REUTERS
The result was “Flash of Light, Wall of Fire,” a 2020 book and subsequent exhibit. Throughout the project, our goal was simple. We wanted to show Americans something that they had never seen before: comprehensive visual evidence of the devastation and suffering atomic bombs cause.
Why have Americans not seen this evidence until now?
After World War II, photographs of Hiroshima and Nagasaki were immediately suppressed by the Japanese military and later by the American occupation forces in Japan, meaning very few were published on either side of the Pacific Ocean. After the end of the occupation in the 1950s (when Japanese books documenting the bombings began to be published and the memorial museums in Hiroshima and Nagasaki were founded), few photographs made their way from Japan to the United States.
If Americans thought of the bomb at all, their only visual memory was of the mushroom cloud, not the horrors inflicted on the Japanese civilians. This void led to a strange cultural dichotomy during the 1950s.
On the one hand, Americans took the bomb very seriously, with the Cold War fueling moments of political and cultural hysteria from McCarthyism to suburban fallout shelters. On the other hand, cultural fads such as “Miss Atomic Bomb” to atomic-themed candy made light of the bombings. Today, with Barbenheimer, we see that the pattern still resonates — seriousness on one hand, silliness on another, all smushed together in our popular culture.
“Oppenheimer” is a moving and serious film that raises important questions about the consequences of nuclear weapons through the personal experiences of physicist Robert Oppenheimer. It includes harrowing depictions of the July 1945 Trinity test site explosion in New Mexico, as well as a compelling scene where Oppenheimer briefly envisions the terrifying human effects of the bombs during a victory speech.
However, there is no attempt to depict the resulting terrors from the perspective of the people of Hiroshima and Nagasaki. Director Christopher Nolan explains this decision, in part: “(Oppenheimer) learned about the bombings of Hiroshima and Nagasaki on the radio, the same as the rest of the world.” It would be unreasonable to criticize Nolan for not including longer and more graphic scenes of this nature, given his vision for the film’s focus on Oppenheimer’s perspective. But without those scenes, and without any visual record in our collective memory, it is easier to avoid the ramifications of Hiroshima and Nagasaki when our view is taken from the bomb bay doors of the Enola Gay or Bockscar.
Conversely, it is impossible to deny the terror and tragedy of the bombings when one looks through the eyes of Yoshito Matsushige, Yosuke Yamahata, Eiichi Matsumoto, Shigeo Hayashi and other photographers on the ground in 1945. Thus, when the Briscoe Center agreed to receive, display and publish photographs donated by the ANPM, the desire was to get the American mind to look from under the mushroom cloud, so to speak.
Unfortunately, the COVID-19 pandemic disrupted our project (as well as the 75th anniversary commemorations in Japan) and diminished the impact of the center’s book and exhibit. Nevertheless, the upcoming 80th anniversary gives historians, archivists and curators around the world a new opportunity.
The Barbenheimer moment shows us that much work remains to be done. If Americans are going to take the very real nuclear dangers of our age more seriously than previous generations (not to mention having a clearer view of what was done to the people of Hiroshima and Nagasaki), they must be confronted with the stark visual evidence of what actually happened. On the whole, Americans are still looking at the history of Hiroshima and Nagasaki from a distance — visually, emotionally and intellectually.
As we approach the 80th anniversary of the bombings, it is time to make a renewed push to change that perspective.
Source: The Japan Times
